


The Hunt

by Proskenion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Gen, Hunt, Nightmares, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 16:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21057164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proskenion/pseuds/Proskenion
Summary: The deer runs, but he is getting tired. His limbs ache. The hunt is after him, getting closer, the hounds' barks and the men's voices getting louder.Theon has a nightmare.





	The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> There is this beautiful old folk French song I love called La Complainte de la Blanche Biche, and it inspired me this. Hope you'll like it my lovely squids !

_The deer runs, hooves hammering the humid ground of the woods. He is scared. The barks of the hounds and the shouts of the men are following him, an invisible threat. The deer runs, breathless. He runs for his life. _

_He stops, paralyzed. In front of him stands a wolf. A huge dark wolf, staring at him with cold, blue eyes. The deer's nostrils open up, his eyes widen. The wolf stares. Only silence now. Silence, and the deer's heartbeat, and the wolf's cold stare. _

_The wolf growls. _

_The hounds' barks echoes in the woods, closer than before. The deer jumps, looks behind. When he looks forward again, the wolf is gone. _

_The deer runs, but he is getting tired. His limbs ache. The hunt is after him, getting closer, the hounds' barks and the men's voices getting louder. _

_An arrow whistles past the hunted animal. _

_The deer jumps on one side, on the other, arrows coming from behind, the hunt always closer, always closer. _

_And an arrow hits him. The deer stumbles but tries to keep going. Another arrow sink through his skin. And another. And another. _

_And he falls. He collapses on the ground, among the dead leaves and the dirt. The deer is caught. _

_The hounds arrive first. They growl and bark around the dying animal. The deer looks, terrified, wondering if they’ll eat him alive. But the men come. One calls the hounds, and they immediately obey. The deer hear the men speaking as he lies dying. One of them comes closer, kneels near the deer. The deer watches. A tall man, thickset, with big bright eyes and big lips like worms. His clothes are all pink. The man smile down at the dying deer. _

_The men tie the deer’s legs to a stick of wood, and they bring him home. The deer know he must be dead by now, but still he can see as he is dragged inside the castle, to the kitchen. _

_They put him on a table. The man wearing pink come closer, a long, sharp knife in his hand. The other men wait. When the man puts his blade roughly into the deer, they all cheer. _

_The deer can’t move, he’s dead, and then he can watch and feel as the man tears him to pieces. Slowly, meticulously, limb after limb, piece of skin after piece of skin. The kiss of the blade is cold and burning. The deer wants to scream, but he can’t. He’s dead. _

_The men take the animal’s head and put it on a piece of wood, and they han git above the fireplace, as a trophy. And the men starts cutting his dismembered body into smaller pieces they will cook later, the deer watches. He watches from where his head hangs, through his cold dead eyes. _

_And he watches as the men grill his ribs and legs and bones._

_And he watches as the men eat his flesh greedily._

_And he watches as the men drink and eat even more, even when there are only his bones left. _

_He watches as the satiated men start singing, enjoying the feast they made of the deer’s dead meat. _

_He watches the corpse of what has once been his body, long after the men are gone._

_And he watches._

_He watches. _

_He watches._

_He watches as the bones turn to dust. _

_He watches as the dust is spread by the wind. _

_He watches as the stones of the wall start to fall._

_And he watches._

_And he watches._

_And he watches._

_And he…_

Theon wakes up breathless and sweaty. His sheets and blanket are on the floor. He’s shivering. He sits up and tries to catch his breath. He stambles out of bed to the window and opens itw ide, letting the cold and damp come in. He breathes in deeply. He looks in the deep of the night, and the serenity fills him slowly. The moon shows from time to time through the dark clouds, shimmering on the black waves of the sea. Theon can smell the sea spray, feel the damp wind on his skin. He smiles. 

My name is Theon Greyjoy, a son of Pyke, of the Islands. You have to know your name. 

My name is Theon, and I’m home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
